think he might not be so bad after all. I’ll strangle him.’
‘Leave it for a while,’ he soothed. ‘Then we’ll do it together. But until then you stay in bed until I say you can get up.’
‘I’m not fragile,’ she protested. ‘I won’t break.’
‘That’s my decision. You’re going to be looked after.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said meekly, through twitching lips.
He threw her a suspicious glance. She retaliated by saluting him.
‘I understand, sir . I’ll just keep quiet and obey, because I’m gonna be looked after whether I like it or not, sir !’
He smiled then. ‘Oh, I think you might like it,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she said happily. ‘I think I just might.’
That night she slept better than she’d done for weeks. It might be the effect of snuggling down in Lysandros’s comfortable bed, waited on hand and foot and told to think of nothing but getting well. Or perhaps it was the blissful sensation of being beside him all night, ordered to, ‘Wake me if you need anything.’
Or the moment when she half-awoke in the early hours to find him sitting by the window, and the way he hurried over, saying, ‘What is it? What can I do for you?’
This man would astound those who only knew him in the boardroom. His tenderness was real, and so, to her delighted surprise, was his thoughtfulness. He visibly racked his brains to please her, and succeeded because it seemed to matter to him so much. She slipped back contentedly into sleep.
When she awoke the next morning he was gone and the house was silent. Had she misread him? Had he taken what he wanted, then abandoned her to make her suffer for invading his privacy? But, although that fitted with his reputation, she couldn’t make herself believe it of the man who’d cared for her so gently last night.
‘Aaaaah,’ she gasped slowly, rubbing her back as she eased her way out onto the landing.
Downstairs, the front door opened, revealing him. As soon as he saw her at the top of the stairs he hurried up, demanding, ‘What are you doing out of bed?’
‘I had to get up for a few minutes,’ she protested.
‘Well, now you can go right back. Come along.’
But once inside the bedroom he pointed her to a chair, saying brusquely, ‘Sit there while I remake the bed.’
Gladly she sat down, watching him pull the sheets straight, until finally he came to help her stand.
‘I’m just a bit stiff,’ she said, clinging to him gladly and wincing.
‘You’ll be less stiff when I’ve given you a good rub. I went out for food and I remembered a pharmacy where they sell a great liniment. Get undressed and lie down.’
She did so, lying on her front and gasping as the cool liniment touched her. But that soon changed to warmth as his hand moved here and there over her bruises.
‘They seem more tender now than last night,’ she mused.
‘You should have rested at once,’ he told her. ‘It’s my fault you didn’t.’
‘Yes,’ she remembered, smiling. ‘We did something else instead. It was worth it.’
‘I’m glad you think so, but I’m not touching you again until you’re better.’
‘Aren’t you touching me now?’
‘This isn’t the same thing,’ he said firmly.
And it wasn’t, she thought, frustrated. His fingers moved here and there, sometimes firm, sometimes soft, but tending her, not loving her. There was just one moment when he seemed on the edge of weakening, when his hand lingered over the swell of her behind, as though he was fighting temptation. But then he won the fight and his hand moved firmly on.
She sighed. It wasn’t fair.
Later, in the kitchen, she watched as he made breakfast.
‘They wouldn’t believe it if they could see you now,’ she teased.
He didn’t need to ask who ‘they’ were.
‘I’m trusting you not to tell them,’ he said. ‘If you breathe a word of this I’ll say you’re delusional.’
‘Don’t worry. This is one secret I’m going to keep to myself. You don’t keep any
‘Leave it for a while,’ he soothed. ‘Then we’ll do it together. But until then you stay in bed until I say you can get up.’
‘I’m not fragile,’ she protested. ‘I won’t break.’
‘That’s my decision. You’re going to be looked after.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said meekly, through twitching lips.
He threw her a suspicious glance. She retaliated by saluting him.
‘I understand, sir . I’ll just keep quiet and obey, because I’m gonna be looked after whether I like it or not, sir !’
He smiled then. ‘Oh, I think you might like it,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she said happily. ‘I think I just might.’
That night she slept better than she’d done for weeks. It might be the effect of snuggling down in Lysandros’s comfortable bed, waited on hand and foot and told to think of nothing but getting well. Or perhaps it was the blissful sensation of being beside him all night, ordered to, ‘Wake me if you need anything.’
Or the moment when she half-awoke in the early hours to find him sitting by the window, and the way he hurried over, saying, ‘What is it? What can I do for you?’
This man would astound those who only knew him in the boardroom. His tenderness was real, and so, to her delighted surprise, was his thoughtfulness. He visibly racked his brains to please her, and succeeded because it seemed to matter to him so much. She slipped back contentedly into sleep.
When she awoke the next morning he was gone and the house was silent. Had she misread him? Had he taken what he wanted, then abandoned her to make her suffer for invading his privacy? But, although that fitted with his reputation, she couldn’t make herself believe it of the man who’d cared for her so gently last night.
‘Aaaaah,’ she gasped slowly, rubbing her back as she eased her way out onto the landing.
Downstairs, the front door opened, revealing him. As soon as he saw her at the top of the stairs he hurried up, demanding, ‘What are you doing out of bed?’
‘I had to get up for a few minutes,’ she protested.
‘Well, now you can go right back. Come along.’
But once inside the bedroom he pointed her to a chair, saying brusquely, ‘Sit there while I remake the bed.’
Gladly she sat down, watching him pull the sheets straight, until finally he came to help her stand.
‘I’m just a bit stiff,’ she said, clinging to him gladly and wincing.
‘You’ll be less stiff when I’ve given you a good rub. I went out for food and I remembered a pharmacy where they sell a great liniment. Get undressed and lie down.’
She did so, lying on her front and gasping as the cool liniment touched her. But that soon changed to warmth as his hand moved here and there over her bruises.
‘They seem more tender now than last night,’ she mused.
‘You should have rested at once,’ he told her. ‘It’s my fault you didn’t.’
‘Yes,’ she remembered, smiling. ‘We did something else instead. It was worth it.’
‘I’m glad you think so, but I’m not touching you again until you’re better.’
‘Aren’t you touching me now?’
‘This isn’t the same thing,’ he said firmly.
And it wasn’t, she thought, frustrated. His fingers moved here and there, sometimes firm, sometimes soft, but tending her, not loving her. There was just one moment when he seemed on the edge of weakening, when his hand lingered over the swell of her behind, as though he was fighting temptation. But then he won the fight and his hand moved firmly on.
She sighed. It wasn’t fair.
Later, in the kitchen, she watched as he made breakfast.
‘They wouldn’t believe it if they could see you now,’ she teased.
He didn’t need to ask who ‘they’ were.
‘I’m trusting you not to tell them,’ he said. ‘If you breathe a word of this I’ll say you’re delusional.’
‘Don’t worry. This is one secret I’m going to keep to myself. You don’t keep any
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